


The Looking Glass

by taichara



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:22:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10092074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: The nature of the Order's extended members makes Chrom feel the need to take a step back, if only for a moment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _prompt:_ "the branching paths of time"

Practicing sword forms, it seemed to Chrom, was a very good idea this bright and sunny afternoon. 

Not because he felt he needed to practice (though far be it for him to deny that practice was always a good thing), no; at the rate this Order of Heroes was needing to field units against their aggressors, he was racking up so much time on actual battlefields that he'd never have a chance to get rusty to begin with.

_But it gives me time to think, so here I am._

Maybe he wasn't the most reflective of souls by nature. He'd be the first to admit that, and candidly so. But -- as he twisted and lunged across the salle's flooring of beaten earth, Falchion flashing as he struck at phantom assailants -- sometimes, some _things_ needed mulling over.

_When did my life become this complicated?_

_I could almost wish the most excitement I need to deal with involves roving bandits and assuring scared smallholders that I'm not my father._

Reflexively, his mouth twisted into a bitter line, and just as reflexively he dismissed the thought of Ylisse's former Exalt. Now was not the time. There were more important things to think about.

Lunge, parry, counterstrike, lunge --

_What's going to happen to the halidom while I'm here? Will anything? Time didn't seem to pass when we'd use the Outrealm gate, is this 'summoning' the same thing?_

_... Was that 'World of Awakening' really home?_

It couldn't be, surely. His brows crimped, reflecting his uncertainty. That couldn't be his world, not unless he'd been copied -- by magic? like an einherjar? -- and, really, just looking around the Order's citadel only bolstered that belief. There were too many instances of people he knew, but discordantly; _just_ out of step with the others, with events as he remembered them, with events he knew would happen. 

Or wouldn't happen. Or now couldn't happen.

Gods, this really was confusing.

_And that's before I start chewing on how surreal it's been seeing completely different versions of the same person, right down to gender._

Really, really confusing.

Parry, riposte, thrust --

_Maybe this entire conflict's taking part in some Outrealm in the first place. Maybe none of it's real._

_Ha, maybe I'm the one that's not real._

_Or it's all just another future -- or present, I suppose. I'm ... reasonably sure I can rule out the past._

_Mostly, anyway._

The string of forms came to its end; Chrom slowed, then stopped, coming to a halt in the middle of the salle, sweat-soaked and no clearer in mind for all his ruminations. He snorted at his own flickering dismay, slinging back hair almost black from his exertions; why should he have expected to somehow cut through the riddle with just a token effort?

_... And maybe I shouldn't even be trying. Maybe this time I should just see it through, and see what happens. However many places, or times, or worlds, or whatever are represented here -- whatever those gates really are -- does it matter? Does it really?_

_Askr's a good kingdom, wherever or whatever it might really be, and these are good people._

_Maybe I should leave off staring at my navel and stick with what I'm good at._

Well. It wasn't _the_ answer, but it was _an_ answer and right then, that moment, it felt good enough. 

With renewed vigour Chrom lifted Falchion and began again.


End file.
